Her Last Gift
(by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt, 1836-1919)
Come here. I know while it was May
My mouth was your most precious rose,
My eyes your violets, as you say.
Fair words, as old as Love, are those.
I gave my flowers while they were sweet,
And sweetly you have kept them, all
Through my slow Summer's great last heat
Into the lonely mist of Fall.
Once more I give them. Put them by,
Back in your memory's faded years --
Yet look at them, sometimes; and try,
Sometimes, to kiss them through your tears.
I've dimly known, afraid to know,
That you should have new flowers to wear;
Well, buds of rose and violets blow
Before you in the unfolding air.
So take from other hands, I pray,
Such gifts of flowers as mine once gave:
I go into the dust, since they
Can only blossom from my grave.
(by Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt, 1836-1919)
Come here. I know while it was May
My mouth was your most precious rose,
My eyes your violets, as you say.
Fair words, as old as Love, are those.
I gave my flowers while they were sweet,
And sweetly you have kept them, all
Through my slow Summer's great last heat
Into the lonely mist of Fall.
Once more I give them. Put them by,
Back in your memory's faded years --
Yet look at them, sometimes; and try,
Sometimes, to kiss them through your tears.
I've dimly known, afraid to know,
That you should have new flowers to wear;
Well, buds of rose and violets blow
Before you in the unfolding air.
So take from other hands, I pray,
Such gifts of flowers as mine once gave:
I go into the dust, since they
Can only blossom from my grave.
Discussion points / questions / activities
- The last two stanzas of the original poem have been deleted for inclusion in Indian Summer. Why do you think that is? Do the deleted stanzas add something essential to the poem? Or are they replaceable?
- Could this poem be improved? Made more effective in achieving its purpose? How?